In the quiet village of Rothley, Leicestershire, where the McCann family has clung to hope amid unimaginable loss for nearly two decades, a new nightmare has intruded upon their fragile peace. Amelie McCann, the 20-year-old sister of missing Madeleine McCann, has broken her silence in a courtroom, detailing a harrowing ordeal of stalking by a Polish woman who insists she is the long-lost child. Julia Wandelt, 24, allegedly bombarded Amelie with sinister messages, fabricated childhood memories, and doctored photographs designed to forge a chilling resemblance between herself and the McCann siblings. These “creepy” intrusions, as Amelie described them, have not only reopened old wounds but exposed the darker underbelly of a case that continues to captivate—and torment—the world.

The trial at Leicester Crown Court, now entering its second week, has thrust the McCann family back into the spotlight they have long sought to escape. Wandelt, from Lubin in Poland, and her alleged accomplice, 61-year-old Karen Spragg from Cardiff, stand accused of stalking causing serious alarm and distress to Kate and Gerry McCann between June 2022 and February 2025. Both women plead not guilty, but the evidence presented paints a picture of obsession that borders on the surreal. Prosecutors allege Wandelt’s campaign began with claims on social media and escalated into a relentless pursuit, complete with uninvited home visits, incessant calls, and manipulative digital artifacts.

Amelie McCann, who was just two years old when her sister vanished from a Portuguese holiday apartment in 2007, took the stand via video link, her composure a testament to the resilience forged in the fires of tragedy. Now a university student navigating young adulthood under the shadow of her family’s global notoriety, Amelie recounted how Wandelt first contacted her in January 2024 through social media. “She started sending me messages claiming to be my sister Madeleine,” Amelie testified, her voice steady but laced with evident discomfort. “It was disturbing from the start. She shared what she called ‘memories’ of our childhood—things like playing Ring a Ring o’ Roses with me and Sean, or family barbecues. But they were all fabricated, details anyone could pull from news articles.”

What elevated the harassment from unsettling to outright “creepy,” in Amelie’s words, were the edited photographs Wandelt sent. Prosecutors displayed these images in court: digitally altered snapshots where Wandelt superimposed her face onto childhood pictures of the McCann siblings, tweaking features to emphasize similarities. “She’d clearly edited the pictures to make me look more like her, which was disturbing,” Amelie told the jury. “I didn’t look like that as a child—these were manipulations to prove her point. It played with my emotions because you start questioning everything, even though you know it’s not real.” One particularly jarring exhibit showed a young Amelie with Wandelt’s eyes grafted on, a grotesque bid to mimic Madeleine’s distinctive coloboma—a keyhole-shaped mark in her right iris that has been a hallmark of the missing girl’s description.

Sean McCann, Amelie’s twin brother and also 20, echoed her sentiments in his testimony. “The messages were upsetting and caused a lot of stress,” he said. “She claimed specific memories, like us playing together as toddlers, but it was all made up. If she’s aware she’s not Madeleine but still pushes these claims, that’s very distressing.” The siblings, who have grown up in the public eye yet maintained a low profile, revealed that Wandelt’s persistence forced them to block her on multiple platforms. Yet, she persisted, allegedly using alternative accounts and even enlisting Spragg to amplify her reach.

The McCann family’s ordeal with Wandelt traces back to 2022, when she first publicly claimed to be Madeleine on social media. Wandelt, who goes by Julia Faustyna online, gained viral notoriety by posting videos and photos highlighting purported resemblances—blonde hair, blue eyes, a smattering of freckles. She demanded DNA tests from the McCanns, insisting her own family history was shrouded in mystery and abuse. “I believe I’m really her,” she reportedly messaged Kate McCann repeatedly. Police quickly debunked her claims through basic checks, including age discrepancies—Wandelt is several years younger than Madeleine would be today—but that did little to deter her.

Prosecutors detailed how Wandelt obtained the McCanns’ contact information and unleashed a barrage of communications. Intelligence analyst Robert Jones testified to phone records showing over 60 calls to Kate in a single day in April 2024. Voicemails played in court captured Wandelt’s pleading tone: “Mum, I miss you. I have these memories—I was injected, paralyzed, couldn’t call for you.” She referenced hypnosis sessions that allegedly unlocked repressed recollections of the abduction, including being taken from the Praia da Luz apartment. “Help me prove it,” she begged. “Don’t think Madeleine is dead; this is a chance.”

Letters formed another prong of the alleged stalking. In December 2024, Wandelt and Spragg drove to the McCanns’ Rothley home under cover of darkness, posting a handwritten note through the letterbox. Addressed to “Mum (Kate)” and signed “Madeleine x,” it expressed a desire to “hug” the family and end the “horror.” Kate McCann, testifying from behind a screen, broke down as she recalled the incident. “I arrived home alone at night and saw them lurking,” she said. “They were shouting, banging on the door. It was terrifying—I pleaded with them to stop.” Audio from the confrontation, captured on a neighbor’s doorbell camera, was played: “You’re causing us a lot of distress, now stop it,” Kate’s voice echoed.

Gerry McCann, the steadfast cardiologist who has spearheaded the search for Madeleine, described the cumulative toll. “This isn’t just about us—it’s damaging the ongoing investigation,” he told the court. “False claimants pull resources away and reopen wounds for no reason.” He recounted answering one of Wandelt’s calls to Kate’s phone: “You must have the wrong number,” he said curtly, only for her to follow up with a voicemail accusing him of avoidance.

Spragg’s role, prosecutors argue, was that of an enabler. The pair met online, bonding over Wandelt’s claims, and hatched plans via WhatsApp to obtain DNA evidence. Messages read in court revealed schemes to rummage through the McCanns’ bins or swipe cutlery from restaurants they frequented. “We have to make a stand,” Spragg wrote. On the night of the home visit, she texted a friend: “We’re sat outside the McCanns’ home with our lights out like private investigators.” Spragg, a retired carer, wept in the dock as evidence mounted, fleeing briefly during a particularly emotional playback.

The court also heard from family friends about the broader impact. Reverend Rob Gladstone, who has supported the McCanns since 2007, spoke of Wandelt attempting to infiltrate church vigils. “She messaged saying she’d attend Mass in Rothley,” he said. “Kate couldn’t come—the anxiety was too much.” Another friend, Janet Kennedy, described receiving and destroying an envelope from Wandelt. “It was all too much,” she said.

Wandelt’s defense may pivot on mental health considerations. Hints of trauma in her background—claims of abuse and hypnosis-induced memories—suggest a woman grappling with identity issues. Yet, prosecutors frame her actions as deliberate, pointing to her use of AI tools like ChatGPT to generate the fake images sent to Amelie. “This wasn’t innocent confusion,” Michael Duck KC argued. “It was calculated to distress and manipulate.”

The McCann case, now 18 years old, remains a touchstone of modern mysteries. Madeleine, just shy of her fourth birthday, disappeared while her parents dined nearby, sparking a global manhunt. Theories abound: abduction by a pedophile ring, accidental death covered up, or a botched burglary. German convict Christian Brueckner emerged as a prime suspect in 2020, linked to the area and a history of child offenses, but charges stall amid evidentiary hurdles. The McCanns’ Find Madeleine fund persists, fueled by donations and their unyielding belief she’s alive.

For Amelie and Sean, the trial is a reluctant rite of passage. Raised in the aftermath—home-schooled initially, shielded from media—they’ve forged normalcy: university studies, part-time jobs, quiet lives. Amelie’s public speaking debut came last year at a vigil marking Madeleine’s 20th birthday, where she vowed, “We’re still looking.” Now, facing Wandelt’s delusions, she embodies the family’s endurance. “It’s scary because you don’t know what she’ll do next,” Amelie said of the stalking. “But we won’t let it define us.”

As the trial progresses, with closing arguments expected soon, the McCanns hope for justice—not just against Wandelt and Spragg, but a reprieve from the endless intrusions. In Rothley’s serene streets, where pink ribbons still flutter in remembrance, the family clings to one truth: Madeleine’s story isn’t over. Until it is, every knock, every message, carries the echo of possibility—and peril.